A Different Path
by RarelyRational
Summary: What if Lisa had died at Canary Wharf? What if Ianto had gone to Scotland instead of Cardiff? Basically my first attempt at fanfiction ever, rated T for now but rating may go up later, I'm not sure. It's an AU, and the characters will probably be OOC, apologies. Also, later Janto hopefully
1. A New Life

**Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, all rights go to RTD I do believe...if some rights go to other people then I'm sorry I forgot you. But yeah. I own nothing**

**Description Time: What if Lisa had died at Canary Wharf? What if, instead of going to Cardiff, Ianto went to Scotland?**

**Author's Note: Umm...this is my FIRST EVER attempt at fanfiction...so daunting! Basically I hope it goes well. I want to make this a multi-chapter but if people hate it then I won't. I'm hoping some people want more because I do want to make this...you guessed it! JANTO! But there's no Jack yet...so ya..**

**WARNING: No beta...just me doing my best. I'm not even sure what a beta is, exactly, but I'm kind of guessing it's when some wonderful person reads your work and edits it or something. If that's the case then ya...nope, sorry, haven't got one.**

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**A Different Path**

Ianto sat motionless in the makeshift medical area, UNIT soldiers seeming to swarm in and out, their black uniforms and red berets making them all blend together into one faceless drone after the other. He knew he should be attempting to help, considering his injuries were minor save a few cracked ribs and a slight concussion. He had overheard UNIT talking about hacking into the secure archives. Ianto had almost piped up at that point, considering he had access to said archives, but he had ultimately decided against it.

A UNIT officer pause in front of him, talking to a doctor, hand resting casually on his gun. Ianto shuddered violently as images of that day flooded his mind. Waking up next to Lisa, beautiful Lisa, the ghost shift stopping, the Doctor's arrival, being sent to the archives to fetch all documents on the Doctor he could find. Those were the blissful memories.

The bad ones came after, memories of cybermen grabbing his co-workers, converting and deleting leaving no one unharmed. Memories of grabbing the biggest gun he could find from the weapons storage and guiding as many people as he could to the archives, locking them in. Memories of the Daleks, the horrible Daleks, their comedic appearance disguising their hateful interiors.

Memories of finding Lisa, his beautiful Lisa half converted and screaming in pain after all the monsters had disappeared. Memories of UNIT finding Lisa and shooting her, straight in the head. Memories of being dragged to the medical bay, screaming. Memories of being told the Doctor had saved the world, yet again. Except, Ianto's world didn't feel saved. It felt destroyed.

"Oi!" a voice called in a thick, Scottish brogue. "focus here, lad."

Ianto blinked, realizing that this voice was being directed towards him. He turned his head to see Archie, the director of Torchwood House up in Scotland. Ianto had met him a few times before and quite liked the odd man. Hartman had often bemoaned him, calling him all kinds of unspeakable names that usually boiled down to the idea that she saw him as a complete idiot. Ianto knew that wasn't true though. Archie was a genius, he just hid it well. Very shrewd, which was exactly what one needed to be in order to survive in Torchwood.

"There you are. It's Ianto, yeah?"

Ianto nodded slowly. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, surprised Archie remembered a junior researcher. Though he suspected Archie knew that Ianto's supposed job title wasn't true, just as he was quite certain Archie was well aware of just how fake Ianto's employee profile was.

"You've got access to the archives, am I right?"

Ianto nodded again. Archie smiled, clapping him on the back, making Ianto cringe in pain. Genius though this man may be he seemed to be lacking in common sense.

"Come on then. You'll be coming with me. Not just to the secure archives. I'm offerin' you a job up in Scotland. Interested?"

Ianto was taken aback slightly but nodded his head. He may as well. There was nothing keeping him in London now, and there was nothing that drew him to Cardiff. He couldn't leave Torchwood-he had denied the offer of retcon-so it seemed Scotland might just be the place for him. Besides, it was where the main archives were kept and Ianto was, if nothing else, an archivist.

Ianto followed Archie down to the secure archives and spent the rest of the day sorting them out. He refused to cooperate with UNIT, much to the delight of Archie, locking them out of the archives. Every time he looked at one of those berets he could see Lisa being shot. It sickened him. Unfortunately he couldn't keep the two operatives Torchwood Cardiff had sent up out of the archives, and was forced to listen to the two of them declare the superiority of Cardiff in loud voices. Ianto nearly punched the acerbic doctor in the face when he said the employees of One deserved what they got. Only Archie's hand on his shoulder grounded Ianto.

"So Grant Moore deserved to die?" Ianto had whispered instead. The doctor shut up, as did the tall, curly-haired woman he was with, the both of them turning to face Ianto. "His son was born two weeks ago. He'd filled out his transfer to Torchwood House a few days ago so he could be sure to live somewhere safer. He deserved to die, did he?"

The room had fallen silent. "Annie Montgomery," he continued. "Her and Dylan were engaged. Their wedding was to be in two months. They deserved their deaths, did they? And Lisa-" on her name, his voice broke, tears glittering in his eyes, threatening to spill over. "Lisa Hallett, the most amazing, beautiful girl in the world, a girl who specialised in xenolinguistics, was fronting the integration campaign, her pet project where she wanted to integrate aliens into the Earth's community, not just experiment on them, she deserved to be taken by the cybermen, strapped to a conversion unit and have metal welded to her body, implants drilled into her skull? She deserved to be left there, screaming in pain, still human, as the Doctor 'saved the day'? She deserved to be shot in the head instead of being given the chance to be saved, did she?"

Ianto choked, turning away and yanking open another drawer, pulling the files out and going over them without really seeing them. The room was silent for a long time before Archie spoke up, his usually gruff yet jovial voice cold as ice.

"Get out. You have enough."

The Cardiff operatives hesitated. Ianto turned around to see them both looking ashamed yet conflicted. "Our orders from Captain Harkness are to salvage the artifacts we can…" the woman trailed off upon seeing Archie's cold eyes.

"Get out. If Harkness has any problems he can bloody well come up her himself."

The Cardiff operatives glanced at each other before scurrying away, leaving the room. Ianto sighed and Archie nodded. "Right then. We've got all we can get, let's head up to Scotland, shall we?"

Ianto smiled weakly. "Let's."

The two of them headed out and, stopping at Ianto's flat long enough to pick up the essentials, leaving the rest of the clean-up to whatever was left of Torchwood, began the drive up to Torchwood Two.

After a while, Archie broke the silence. "Lisa," he began softly. "Was she yours?"

Ianto smiled grimly at that. "Yeah," he replied. "She was."


	2. Phone Call

**Thanks everyone! Your reviews/favourites/alerts gave the the doofiest grin, I couldn't stop smiling!**

**So here's the next chapter...I'm not one hundred percent in love with it but then again we are all our own greatest critics...I'm pretty sure that's how the story goes.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. It would be awesome if I did but I don't. **

**A/N real times: This is also unbetaed (is that how you spell it?) thus any and every mistake is my own...sorry!**

**Hope you like it!**

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Jack Harkness had not had a good day. A group of Terrinians had trade to take over Cardiff and, despite Jack knowing Torchwood had defeated them in the past, he could not, for the unfairly long life of him, remember how. He had sent Gwen down to check if there was an old report about this in the archives which had resulted in her getting lost for three hours. This had, understandably though still frustratingly, resulted in Gwen's declaring that she would never again step foot in the archives.

Jack growled, banging his head on his desk. They had defeated the Terrinians eventually, but all of this could have gone much smoother had the archives been in order. Torchwood Three needed an archivist, one that could come in, sort everything out and then leave without the hassle of retcon.

So hiring someone off the street was out of the question. And there was no way Jack was letting someone from UNIT into the hub, reading all those files, learning all of Torchwood's secrets and then reporting back to their generals.

There was only one person Jack could ask, the person who seemed to have developed a deep and personal hatred for Torchwood Three after the Battle of Canary Wharf. Jack had to call Torchwood Two. Jack had to talk to Archie.

He banged his head against his desk again with a moan. This was not going to go well.

Ianto laughed as he read one of the old mission reports. It was back in the seventies, and Nessie had decided to put on a show for some tourists. Basically it was a clean-up, but it had gone spectacularly wrong in the most comedic of ways.

That was probably Ianto's favourite thing about working in the vast archives of Torchwood House. The quiet moments, when nothing new had come in, and he was given time alone to walk amongst the shelves, exploring further and further back until he found the reports covered in dust from a time long ago. Some days he didn't go very far back at all, but others he kept going until he couldn't go any further.

At first he had hated the quiet of Torchwood House. He needed to keep moving, never sitting still, because stopping brought back the memories of fire and screams and metallic voices and death, so much death. So Ianto had wandered, reading every file he came across, absorbing all the information he could, his eidetic memory and superhuman ability to absorb and retain information without forgetting any of it coming in handy. And during these wanderings, Ianto had begun to heal.

He remembered why he trained to be an archivist in the first place. He remembered that he had a true passion for learning. He remembered how much he loved the way files and reports stored in the archives gave him an insight into the mind of the writer, how personal a simple requisition form could be at times. He remembered how interested he was in history, an interest that went deeper than what could be learned in textbooks. And, most of all, he remembered how much he loved being organised.

Yes, it was weird. Yes, Lisa used to tease him about it time and time again, laughing her beautiful laugh at the way their apartment was always spotless, trying to get him to leave the dishes until the next morning. After a while, Ianto realized he was smiling at these memories. After a while, Ianto realized that, while his heart still hurt, it wasn't shattered anymore. Just a little broken, well on its way to recovery.

Six months had passed, and Ianto knew he would be alright. He was reveling in quiet moments once more which was, to be perfectly honest, a complete relief to him. He had always been a creature of silence and unspoken words.

Suddenly the phone on his desk rang, breaking the silence. Ianto frowned, recognising it as the private Torchwood line. Either UNIT, the government or-most unlikely-Torchwood Cardiff was calling. With a sigh Ianto picked up. Archie had gone out to spend some time with Nessie. They had quite the odd relationship, Ianto thought, though he supposed if he had a pet prehistoric creature he would act much the same way.

"Hello, Torchwoo-" he began before being rudely interrupted.

"Archie, I am not crawling back to you with my tail between my legs but I need to ask you a favour."

It was a vaguely American sounding voice, one that Ianto recognised in an instant, considering he had heard it time and time again shouting loudly and arrogantly throughout all of Torchwood One back when it was still around. Ianto sighed.

"Am I correct in assuming this is Captain Jack Harkness?" he asked politely, not wanting to anger the man. He really didn't want to deal with one of the Captain's famous temper tantrums. He had had quite the reputation back at London. The man who'd shag anything that breathes acts like a five year old half the time.

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Ianto raised his eyebrow as he waited. Finally, the man replied, irritated tone gone, replaced by the famous flirtatiousness. "That is the most sinfully gorgeous voice I have ever heard. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Was there something you needed sir?"

"Sir? Kinky, I like that," the man replied. Ianto blushed furiously, but somehow managed to retain his professionalism.

"Good to know sir. As I said, was there something you needed?"

"Your name and phone number would be nice."

Ianto was saved from replying as, just then, Archie clomped happily through the doors. Ianto immediately held out the phone to him, his face burning red, mouthing the words 'Captain Harkness'. Archie rolled his eyes and took the phone.

"Harkness?" he spoke.

Ianto stood up and walked away, unsure why exactly Captain Harkness's flirting had shaken him so.

Jack growled as he slammed the phone down. Damn Archie! Telling him he couldn't spare anyone at the moment, what a load of crap. The sodding bastard just wanted to make him suffer.

Jack poured himself a glass of whiskey and allowed his mind to drift to that gorgeous voice. He had lived in Cardiff for over one hundred years and not once had he heard such beautiful Welsh vowels. It was a voice made for the bedroom. Jack closed his eyes, imagining that voice screaming out his name in the throes of passion. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it. He didn't even know what this guy looked like. He didn't even know his name!

There was one thing he was sure of though. He would find out the man with the beautiful voice's name. And then he would get him to Cardiff. After that…well, Jack would just have to wait and see.


	3. Going to Cardiff?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood in any way shape or form. Yes, I do admit that would be awesome and Ianto would be resurrected as a total BAMF and save the world in time for his dates with Jack but that will never happen because I don't own Torchwood. Not even close.**

**A/N (is this what I normally do? I honestly can't remember): SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! I was super busy with my film proposal and my film project as well as my English close reading assignment and I had to catch up on my readings for my Shakespeare class aka read Taming of the Shrew and Romeo and Juliet. I survived however!**

**Also, to those of you in Canada who celebrate this most fattening of holidays: Happy Almost Thanksgiving! To those of you who aren't in Canada and celebrate it at this time as well Happy Almost Thanksgiving! Hopefully I covered my bases there. **

**Ok, on with the show, am I right? I feel as though I should be adding something else but whatevs, it's all good in the hood (sorry, don't know what that was but I'm leaving it because it was from the heart. Probably)**

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In the weeks that followed Jack didn't stop calling Torchwood House in his attempt to speak with Ianto who still refused to divulge any personal information. Then again that may very well be because Archie was making a valiant effort to prevent any communication between Ianto and Captain Harkness. A valiant effort which involved snatching the phone out of Ianto's hands as well as relegating Ianto to 'Nessie duty' so that he'd spend less time by the phone.

After a month of this nonsense had passed Ianto walked into the Torchwood House to find Archie shouting on the phone.

"No I will not give you an archivist I don't care about the bloody rift Harkness you've brought this on yourself!"

Ianto's eyebrows shot up. So that was why Captain Harkness was calling? Ianto had, quite naively he now realized, just assumed Captain Harkness was being the insufferable bastard Archie liked to call him, harassing Torchwood House for no apparent reason. Ianto didn't have a very high opinion of Captain Harkness to say the least, not stemming from the wild rumours that circulated London, but rather how he had dealt with the aftermath of Canary Wharf, how he had refused to provide assistance for the survivors, how he had openly condemned all former employees of Torchwood London, how he hadn't bothered to discipline his employees after their completely unprofessional behaviour during the battle's aftermath.

Yes, Ianto disliked Captain Harkness, even though his flirtatious manner and constant innuendos made Ianto blush. Ianto very much did not like Captain Harkness. But he also understood the importance of the role of Torchwood Cardiff with regards to the safety of the Earth. Cardiff was on a rift in time and space. This had gone on long enough.

Without allowing himself to take a moment for a second thought Ianto marched forwards and yanked the phone away from Archie, bringing it up to his ear and fixing Archie with one of his chilling glares.

"-And if the world ends I swear Archie I will blame you-"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "You're in need of an archivist, sir?" Ianto cut in politely. The other side of the line was silent. Ianto rolled his eyes as he waited, but he was a patient man. He could easily outwait the Captain.

"The man with the gorgeous voice," Captain Harkness whispered, almost reverently. Ianto rolled his eyes again.

"Thank you sir. If you could answer the question please?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm in need of an archivist."

"Very well sir I'll be there in a week." With that Ianto hung up the phone. Archie stared at him, his jaw gaping open. Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Was there a problem Archie?"

Archie blinked slowly before shaking his head a little and closing his mouth. "Why would you do that?" he hissed. Ianto shrugged.

"I was sick of your bickering."

Archie glowered at him. "You know how he feels about London, Ianto."

Ianto smiled softly. "Then we can be sure he won't want me permanently then, can't we?"

Archie shook his head and walked away, arms outstretched, palms facing the sky, muttering something about bloody Welshmen too stubborn for their own good. Ianto couldn't help but laugh. And he should laugh, while he still had the chance. Because really, once he showed up in Cardiff and they saw his files, the working environment would turn very hostile, very fast.

Jack stared at the phone with a mixture of annoyance, shock and glee. Annoyance, because Archie was a bastard. Shock because the man with the sexy voice had hung up on him. Glee because the man with the sexy voice would be coming to Cardiff. In one week. To sort out the archives. A job that could very well take months. Jack burst out of the office and ran down the stairs to see Tosh.

"Tosh!" he cried. "Pull up all the files of Torchwood House employees!"

Tosh rolled her eyes and turned to Jack. "You know we don't have access to that, don't you? After all, Archie is the rightful director of all the Torchwood Institute and he keeps his employee files classified."

Jack grinned his trademark Captain Jack Harkness hero grin. "That's why I asked you and not Owen to pull them up sweet Toshiko."

Tosh blushed slightly and turned back to her computer, rolling her wrists a few times before placing her hands in the typing position and letting her fingers fly across the keyboard at a lightning quick pace.

"Jack!" Gwen exclaimed as she walked up, "you have to ban Owen from making drinks! I swear he tried to poison me!"

"Not bloody likely sweetheart!" Owen exclaimed coming up from the med-bay in a huff. "Besides, it's not like you could do any better!"

Jack rolled his eyes good-naturedly and turned around with a smirk. He was so settled on cloud nine he doubted anything could bring him down today.

"Now, now, children," he began, "no fighting!"

Gwen opened her mouth to respond when Tosh-thankfully-cut in. "I'm in," she murmured, already engrossed in reading the three files that were there. Very few people worked at Torchwood House, considering it didn't actually guard anything the way London guarded the void or Cardiff guards the Rift. It was completely archives, archives which were manned by Torchwood Director Archie-Tosh had been unable to get a last name, part time archivist Aileen MacLeod who, by the looks of it was as good as retired at this point, and full-time Head Archivist Ianto Jones.

"Ianto Jones!" Jack exclaimed. "The Welsh John Smith, that must be him!"

"Well it's not like it was crazy Archie or the old bird now was it?" Owen snarked. Jack glared at him.

"Ianto Jones," Tosh read out, either oblivious to the sudden tension between Jack and Owen or completely aware of it and attempting to diffuse it. "Born August 19th, 1983, average student…" she trailed off with a scowl.

"What?" Jack asked.

"This file's been changed, Jack. This isn't right."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's no way Archie would have hired a Junior Researcher from Torchwood London and given them free reign over the main archives of all of Torchwood!"

Jack's jaw dropped. Torchwood London? Suddenly, he wasn't so pleased for the next week's arrival.


	4. A Weevil Encounter

**I OWN NOTHING. Unfortunately.**

**Ugh, so I had a beautifully poignant and totally moving apology for taking so long followed by a most likely inspiring and life-changing authour's note (jokes) but decided I wasn't logged in anymore so that no longer exists.**

**It was something along the lines of sorry I took so long, midterms suck, thanks for the love shown for the story I love you all and I don't know how to reply to reviews and stuff and I'm not British so I don't know the proper slang so please let me know if I'm using the right words or if there are any I should use.**

**I'm pretty sure there was something in there about following bits of canon at this point but mainly that I suck at plots and that if there's anyone out there who wants to provide with suggestions of where to go plot-wise (I know where I'm going character-wise) please let me know.**

**There was probably something else but it's gone now.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

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After laying awake for three hours staring broodily at the ceiling of his cheap motel in Splott Ianto gave up on sleep. It was pointless to keep trying something so futile. Sleep evaded Ianto, Ianto did not submit to it. His mind kept him awake, thoughts flitting through his consciousness, random facts popping up, useless memories plaguing him.

It was probably his guilt, he decided. Guilt that he was still alive which-according to the idiotic self-help book Aileen had bought for him-was completely normal or something. Guilt that Lisa was gone. Guilt that he was in bloody Cardiff and hadn't told his sister. Guilt that he still hadn't met his neice. Guilt that he was starting this new-albeit temporary-job because Lisa would never start anything new again.

Guilt was a waste of time. But it plagued Ianto nonetheless.

The tall man had made coffee and broodily nursed it. It was absolutely disgusting and he had spat out the first mouthful before cursing himself for being such an idiot. He hated instant coffee, but it was all he had here. Bloody Cardiff, bloody Torchwood, bloody instant coffee.

With a sigh he dumped the rest of it down the drain before quickly throwing on what Lisa had once called his 'rent boy' outfit. Ianto had laughed at that and then proceeded to show her what a good little rent boy he could be. Suffice it to say the two of them had been quite late meeting up with their friends that pub night.

He wandered aimlessly through the streets of Cardiff before finally drifting into a park. It was weird being back in Wales. He had left it all behind and never looked back, proud to be free of Newport, of Splott, of the Cromwell Estate, of the shoplifting, of the gangs, of the crimes, of his old life. Being back here felt like he had failed in some way. Maybe that was why he hadn't bothered calling Rhi. He didn't want to admit defeat.

The sounds of fighting brought Ianto's mind back to the present. He ran towards the place where the sound had come from only to find a man in a 1940's RAF coat grappling with a very vicious, very angry weevil. The weevil had gained to upper hand and attacked the man's neck. Without so much as a second thought Ianto picked up a fallen branch and promptly hit the weevil with it as hard as he could.

The weevil turned on him and Ianto rolled his eyes. Of course this would happen. Of course he had survived growing up in some of the worst parts of Wales. Of course he had survived being homeless in London after university. Of course he had survived bloody cybermen and daleks only to be killed by a weevil.

That was the moment the man, with some kind of inhuman regenerative capabilities took the weevil down. Ianto was surprised, as he had been quite sure the man was dead. That was not, it seemed, the case, and that quick and completely inaccurate assessment was most likely the reason Ianto had never been considered for a field agent. That and his eidetic memory and perfect recall made him far too valuable for Torchwood to lose. His knowledge of London's archives had been beyond any other employee's. Yvonne was gleeful every time Ianto was able to recite facts at the drop of a hat to impress UNIT officials.

"Thanks," Ianto said, as it was only polite to thank the man who had just saved his life.

"No, thank you," he replied and Ianto could have smacked himself. This was Captain Jack Harkness. Because, really, who else could it be? Ianto may have vast amounts of knowledge stored inside his brain but he was still incredibly daft.

"Captain Harkness," he said curtly, slipping into his professional façade with a well-practiced ease. He hadn't worn this particular mask since London fell but it was a second skin to him, and fit just as well as it always had.

Jack narrowed his eyes at the admittedly gorgeous young man in front of him. He had suddenly gone stiff and the sparkle inside his dark blue eyes had died out, replaced by the greatest poker face Jack had ever seen. And Jack had seen a lot of brilliant poker faces.

And then, of course, the man spoke. He knew Jack, and his voice was beautiful as sin, perfect for the bedroom, the exact accent, pitch and timbre that he had been fantasizing about for months.

Ianto Jones stood in front of him. Ianto Jones, the new archivist on loan from Archie. Ianto Jones, formerly of Torchwood One. Ianto Jones, beautiful man with a beautiful voice that Jack couldn't trust.

"Ianto Jones," Jack replied evenly. Ianto inclined his head slightly.

"Quite right sir. Do you require my assistance in transporting this weevil?"

Jack required his assistance alright, he could think of all kinds of ways he required his assistance, especially in that outfit…Jack shook his head violently, trying to dispel those thoughts from his mind. He couldn't allow himself to think that way, not about this man.

Ianto, however, interpreted this as Jack refusing his help. "Alright sir. I'll see you tomorrow for work."

With that he turned and walked off, giving Jack a view of his perfect arse. Jack watched him leave before kicking the unconscious weevil in his frustration.

"It figures," he grumbled. "It really figures he'd be pretty." With a sigh he tossed the weevil over his shoulders and walked off to the SUV in a slight huff.

Ianto broke into a run as soon as he was sure Captain Harkness couldn't see him anymore, not stopping until he was back in his crummy room. He slammed the door shut and promptly sank down to the ground, hating himself a little.

Captain Jack Harkness was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. Every rumour was true. Every word of the Captain's good looks and charming smile were steeped in fact. Ianto had never imagined a man in a greatcoat and braces could be so damn attractive.

Ianto shook his head. Lisa, Lisa, Lisa, he thought. Yes, time had passed. Yes, Lisa was amazing and beautiful and perfect and, as such, would genuinely want Ianto to move on and find happiness elsewhere. She had actually mentioned that to him once.

They had been lying in bed on Sunday, the yellow sunlight filtering through the curtains, telling them to get up. They had, of course, ignored this and had opted for spending the entire day in bed together. Lisa had looked over at him, face serious, eyes wide.

"Ianto Welsh Jones," she had started. Ianto scowled.

"That's not my middle name," he pointed out. She placed a finger on his lips, effectively silencing him.

"Hush. Ianto Interrupting Jones, Torchwood is dangerous. Most field agents don't live to see their thirtieth birthday. I am a field agent Ianto. I am now included in that statistic. That sentence is my future."

Ianto had, at his point, clapped his hand over her mouth, filled with fear. Lisa had shoved him off.

"Let me say this Yan. Let me say this once and then I promise we'll never ever speak of it again, okay?"

Ianto had sighed and rolled away with a resigned nod, still keeping quiet, just like Lisa wanted.

"If I die, Yan, I want you to move on and be happy. I know you. If you had your way you'd take on Death itself to bring me back because you love so damn much. But I don't want you to do that. If I die, I want you to find someone else. I don't want you to mourn forever. Promise me you'll find happiness Yan. Promise me."

Ianto had promised and they had never spoken of it again.

And now, here he was, on the ground, hitting his head gently against the crappy motel door, attracted to Jack Harkness and still in love with the memories of Lisa.

He had promised her he would move on.

But not with him.

Not with a man who condemned Torchwood London, not with a man who held the survivors as well as the victims responsible for Yvonne's idiocy.

Ianto would repress these feelings, and move on. Come tomorrow, Ianto wouldn't think about Jack's flawless jawline or the perfect cleft in his chin or the broadness of his shoulders or the arresting shade of blue that were his eyes.

Tomorrow Ianto would be professional. He would fix the Cardiff archives as fast as possible and then he would go back to Scotland and never see the man again.


	5. Seeing the Archives, Meeting the Team

**Hey, I'm really sorry about how long it took to update but I do have a reason and a story to go along with it and another addendum to the story or something so here it is:**

**My friend died so I haven't been up to writing. I felt bad though, leaving this story without an update or explanation for so long so I wrote this. It's longer than the others but I don't know if I like it or not so there's a chance I may go back and edit it later but at the same time I might not. I don't know. I probably won't update for a while because 1) I have to catch up on all the course work I fell behind on dealing with what happened especially since exams are coming up and 2) I honestly don't feel inspired. I'm really sorry, I promise to try to update again before Christmas but I just don't know if I'll be able to. I will try though.**

**I'm really sorry if that brought you down I promise I wasn't trying to I just wanted to explain what was going on and why this update took so long.**

**So, back to the usual, I don't have a beta (and still have no idea how you'd go about getting one) so all mistakes are because of me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Torchwood. It would be awesome if I did but I don't.**

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Sometimes Ianto would stare in the mirror and wouldn't recognize his own reflection. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't reconcile the odd collection of features as his own face staring back at him. This was one of those days.

He sighed and adjusted his tie. It always paid to be professional, and so Ianto would don his London armour, his suit. He was well aware of the fact that Cardiff was far less professional, that they were more casual, usually showing up in jeans of all things. But Ianto was not Cardiff. He was Scotland, formerly London. He did not want to fit in. That wasn't his goal. What he really wanted was to go back to Scotland and just tell Cardiff to screw the whole thing but Ianto Jones had given his word. He was not wont to go back on such a thing.

He exited his motel and started to walk. He knew he should be frightened to be walking through Splott in a suit but he was Ianto Jones. He'd grown up in places much worse than this and besides, last he'd heard some of his old acquaintances were running the gangs here. They wouldn't dare do anything to him.

He made it to work by seven sharp. He subtly noted the CCTV cams that seemed almost to follow him as he entered the Tourist's Office. He rolled his eyes. Harkness really needed to learn not to be so obvious.

Jack hadn't slept at all the previous night, his mind churning over what had happened. Ianto Jones. What was Jack to make of Ianto Jones? Tosh couldn't even unlock his file in its entirety it was that covered up. Who was this young man? And young he was. He was 23. That was far too young to have seen what he saw in Canary Wharf.

Canary Fucking Wharf. That was where all the problems lay wasn't it. Jack hated Torchwood London on principle and, by extension, all its employees. Their arrogance had nearly destroyed the world and had it not been for the Doctor they would all be cybermen right now. Jack wondered what would happen to him were he converted. Could he survive that? But Jack didn't need to worry about finding out because the Doctor had saved them from the ego of London.

But Rose was gone.

And wasn't that, when all was said and done, the root of the matter?

Jack would have helped the survivors had he not seen that single name sitting on the list.

Rose Tyler.

He dreamt about it sometimes, odd though that may be. He dreamt about seeing that list of the dead and seeing that name. He hadn't even bothered entering the building at that point, telling Suzie and Owen to do it themselves, that he had other things to do. What he'd actually done was wander through London, lost in memories, but they didn't need to know that.

Jack sighed, trying not to lose himself in his memories, something that was far easier than it should be. He stared at the CCTV and watched one Ianto Jones walk up. He moved the camera to follow his movements as he entered the Tourist's Office. He was wearing a suit. A suit that made him look…no. No, Jack couldn't let his mind go there, not right now. He glanced at the time and saw it was seven. He was early, compared to when the rest of his team trickled in. Interesting.

Jack jumped up and bounded down the stairs, wanting to see that suit in person. Not that he'd admit that to himself, no, he just didn't want the former London worker hanging around unsupervised. Yes, that was it. It had to be.

"Ianto Jones," he said, stepping into the Tourist Information Centre. "You're early."

Ianto didn't bother turning to face him, not that Jack minded considering what a fantastic arse the Welshman possessed.

"This is a joke."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

Ianto finally turned around, a cool expression on his face. "This," he said, gesturing minutely to the Centre. "This is a joke. What's the point in even having it?"

Jack was confused. Surely he understood that it was the cover?

Ianto seemed to catch on to Jack's confusion and continued speaking. "You have brochures from the nineties, there's a layer of dust over everything and it's closed all hours of the day. If you're going to use this as a front at least make it believable."

Jack looked around the place and realized that Ianto had a point, not that he'd concede it in front of the man.

"The way I run the Cardiff branch is none of your concern, Mr. Jones."

Ianto inclined his head.

"You're right, of course, Captain Harkness."

Jack narrowed his eyes, searching for a trace of mocking on Ianto's face but finding none. The man was probably a champion at poker given that mask he wore.

"Follow me, I'll show you the Archives." With that Jack swept away, Ianto rolling his eyes and following him.

The morning passed uneventfully for Ianto as he was shown the Archives and explained to Harkness what his purpose here was. He was only here to deal with the Archives, nothing more. The man seemed to have no qualms with that, which made Ianto happy. That happiness remained until he actually saw the Archives.

Nothing Archie said could have ever prepared him for the absolute disaster that awaited him. There were no words in the eighteen languages Ianto knew-twelve of which were alien languages-that could accurately describe the state of the Archives.

Ianto hadn't let Harkness see the horror he felt but the moment Harkness left him to his own devices-probably because his team had deigned to show up or something Ianto whipped out his phone and dialled Archie's number, glancing at the CCTV and turning away from it.

"Ianto?" Archie answered, his voice gruff.

"The Archives. Archie, the Archives." He spoke in a low voice so the CCTV wouldn't pick up on it.

Archie laughed at that, making Ianto scowl.

"I did warn ya lad," Archie said when he finally stopped laughing.

"You never said it was like this!" he exclaimed, his entire being twitching as he glanced at the haphazard boxes strewn about the room, the labels on said boxes something Ianto never wanted to see again for the rest of his existence. Who labelled a box _Don't Touch These If You Value Your Spleen._ Who?

"Well it's too late to back out now. You'll just have to suck it up and deal with it."

Ianto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "By the time I'm done with these Archives they will be so neat that they will repel dust," he declared solemnly. Archie laughed again.

"There's the spirit lad. Now get to work."

With that Archie hung up the phone. Ianto sighed and put it in his pocket, staring forlornly at the mess in front of him.

"What did Archie have to say?"

Ianto whirled around only to find himself face to face with Harkness. Ianto quickly let the mask slip into place, quickly donning his professionalism like a second skin.

"Little of importance, sir."

Jack stared at him, an odd expression on his face as he looked Ianto up and down. An odd tingling ran down Ianto's spine as he felt Jack's gaze rake over him, a tingle he promptly ignored, locking it away in the back of his mind where it would hopefully never again see the light of day.

"Come on," Harkness finally spoke. "I want you to meet the team."

Ianto nodded once and followed behind Harkness. He could do this.

Jack led Ianto up the stairs, trying not to think about what he had seen and heard. Ianto had been so animated, and when his long fingers ran through his thick hair Jack's fingers itched to do the same, Jack's scalp itched to receive the same treatment. Ianto Jones wasn't good for what little sanity he had left. He needed to get him shipped back to Scotland as soon as possible or else he'd wind up doing something he'd regret, that much he was sure of.

They finally reached the main level of the hub where he gathered the team. He smirked slightly as he gestured to the gathered group.

"Team," he declared, "this is Ianto Jones. Ianto, this is the team."

Ianto nodded once and Jack's smirk fell slightly. Ianto turned to Tosh.

"Miss Sato, it is an honour to meet you. Your skills have been a great asset to Torchwood."

Tosh blushed at that and smiled back, clearly won over.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones but please, call me Tosh. And you have to tell me who encrypted your file, I can't get past the firewalls."

Ianto smirked at that. "And you must call me Ianto. And I did that, didn't want my life story open for the world to see."

Tosh gaped at that revelation, as did Jack. Was Ianto really saying he was so skilled with computers that he was able to hide something from Tosh? Impossible!

Ianto turned to Gwen. "Miss Cooper. PC Cooper? It's a pleasure to meet you."

Gwen grinned happily at him. "Finally a good Welshman! Working with all these foreigners was giving me a headache."

She proceeded to ask him something in Welsh to which he replied, making Gwen laugh. Jack's jaw dropped. Was there no end to this man's talents?

Finally Ianto turned to Owen, who had gone deathly pale at the sight of him.

"Dr. Harper," he said, his voice cold as ice. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

Owen didn't reply, merely looked away, an expression of shame spreading across his features. Ianto turned back to Jack, who was puzzled over the reactions of the generally acerbic medical professional.

"If you don't mind, sir, I'll be returning to the Archives."

Jack nodded without really listening, his mind still reeling over Ianto's interactions with his team. As soon as Ianto was disappeared down the stairs, however, Gwen piped up.

"Well, I like the bloke, despite what you lot said about where he used to work."

Tosh nodded, though her eyes were somewhat narrowed. "I can't believe he's better than I at computers!"

That statement shook Jack out of his reverie, causing him to nod. "I have trouble believing that too. He's probably lying to us or something of the kind." He glanced towards Owen, who looked as though he was going to be sick.

"Owen?" Tosh asked, clearly having noticed the same thing.

Owen looked up at them. "It's him," he said.

Jack's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Ianto," Owen said. "He's the one I met in London. The one with Archie. Don't know how I didn't put two and two together before. It's him, Jack. God, of course it is."

Gwen bit her lips. "What are you talking about?"

Owen shook his head as he sat down in Tosh's chair.

"When me and Suzie were clearing up some of London we ran into Archie-he's with Torchwood House hopefully you remembered that much-and some bloke he was with who had clearly been through hell. Anyways Suzie and I were rambling on about how London deserved what happened to them and that bloke he…he snapped."

Gwen looked frightened. "He tried to hurt you!" she exclaimed. Everyone shot her an odd look and Owen shook his head.

"No, you daft cow, he didn't try to hurt us. No, he went really cold, like everything was ice, and he started listing off names of people who'd died and their lives and made them into humans, not just names on a sheet of paper and asked me if any of those people deserved to die in the most horrible way possible and trust me, I saw London, I saw what those cybers did to those people, I haven't seen anything half as disgusting. I swear, I've never felt so horrible in all my life."

They were all quiet letting Owen's words sink in. Jack closed his eyes and nodded slightly. Of course it was him. Of course Ianto Jones was the reason Archie had refused to cooperate with the Cardiff branch. Of course Ianto Jones had clammed up the moment he realized who Jack was. Of course he was so professional, so removed, so cold.

Of course Ianto Jones hated Jack Harkness.

Of course.


End file.
